Empty frames
by potterpaws
Summary: Dr.Lecter welcomes a new patient in which he takes no particular interest in. However when she stays silent about why she came, he feels his duty to free her from terrifying visions. - Hannibal/OC -Rated M just in case for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first fanfiction ever, so I hope you enjoy! I'm not sure if I'm going to continue, even if I have a lot of ideas right now, so please review with your opinion! Any critic is welcome (as long as you keep it clean). This is a Hannibal/Reader fanfiction, I guess? The reader sort of has a background story though. I hope you like it! Please review! **

She waited patiently by the window, watching the hail intensely as she sat in the empty waiting room. The stones hit the glass rhythmically, yet creating a unique composition. The sky was starting to get dark. Her eyes had been fixed on the same point; she had to remind herself to blink from time to time. The scene that had haunted her in her dreams kept replaying in her mind, her vision becoming blurred by sights of blood and confusion.

A voice rose smoothly from beside her, and she turned her head around to find a tall man in a suit bending towards her, a friendly smile escaping his lips. His face was ageless; he could have been fifty or thirty. His almost-grey hair was combed perfectly on the side, but his eyes didn't speak. He reached a hand towards her as she came back to earth, and she blushed at the sight of his action. Never had she seen anyone do that; at least not in _this_ century… Nevertheless, she placed her hand in his, still not standing up. His hand was rough, unexpected, and she flinched slightly at the touch of his freezing fingertips.

"Miss _? Can you hear me?" he repeated, a frown slowly forming on his face. His face was close to hers, but not so close as to make her uncomfortable. The only wrinkles visible were the ones he had just formed on his forehead, along with the ones shaping his mouth and small ones in the corner of his eyes.

She blinked rapidly and responded as fast as she could.

"Y… Yes. I was lost in thought for a moment, sorry, Mr Lecter."

He straightened up, and she followed his action by standing. He replied in an accent she couldn't recognise, accentuating certain syllables. However, he spoke smoothly, and his voice was pleasant to her ears.

"No need to apologize. And please forgive me for the late appointment; I'm usually on time. Shall we go in?" he said, gesturing with his other hand to the door.

"It's fine, honestly. I really didn't see the time pass." she said, more to herself than anyone. He released her hand and she followed him as he re-entered the room he had just exited. She took a few steps, looked around and found herself mouth half open, admiring the space. It was the most beautiful room she had ever seen; everything fit together like pieces of a puzzle. The colours used were red, black and gold and looked magnificent against the little furniture placed in the centre; two chairs and a small sofa beside, lined with a couple of small tables, smaller than the chairs. A desk also stood at the far end, and art crafts decorated the room. The lightning was dim, just a little brighter than outside – "nothing surprising for a therapy room", she thought to herself. Wide, clear windows were half covered with blood red, thick, curtains.

But the most surprising were the books. An entire wall of books lay above their heads, opposite the door's wall, where a glass cabinet stood. A ladder lay against the levitating floor. The sight was exquisite, a delicious dish able to be tasted with her eyes.

She looked back at him, remembering to press her lips shut again. He stood in the very centre of the room, his hands in his trouser pockets. He seemed to be one of the pieces of the room's puzzle. Without it, it wouldn't be complete. Only now she noticed how he as dressed; he wore a dark plaid suit, which she usually didn't agree on for men, but it suited him. Like his face, it didn't have a single wrinkle too much and even the tissue in his blazer pocket was folded to perfection. His mouth curled into a smile and she couldn't help but notice he had very nice lips.

"Shall we sit?"

He gestured her to a chair, as he took the one opposite.

They stared at each other while she sat, her body leaning forwards, fingers tangled, uncomfortable, and he sat straight-up, legs crossed, still as a statue. After a couple of seconds of her eyes darting around the room again and his watching her intensely, he spoke gently:

"How are you?"


	2. Fairytails would be better

She didn't know where to look or what to say. He watched her tangle her fingers together, her back arched over them, her dark brown hair falling over her shoulders almost touching her thighs. In the absence of speech, the only noise in the room was that of the constant hail attacking the windows. He couldn't see her face properly; however he guessed she was holding back tears.

She seemed like the other patients: uncomfortable, slightly scared of him -for it was her first session. "Scared not for the right reasons", he thought amusingly, but still scared. As she kept her silence, he observed her. The lightning reflected on her hair, which seemed like she hadn't bothered to fix it after coming out of bed. It hung loosely, tangled in some places. She wore a simple skinny pair of black jeans, trainers and a turquoise tee-shirt too big for her.

He was so focused on her clumsy appearance that he was slightly caught by surprise when her head lifted quickly. She wasn't crying like he had imagined. They maintained a stare for a couple of seconds, the girl's lips opened up and seemed she was finally going to speak, only to close them and look back down at her palms.

He decided that if she wasn't going to make the first move, he would.

"How are you, Carrie?" he asked slowly. She stopped moving and looked up at him, something in her brown eyes he interpreted as hope. Hannibal didn't want to go in the depth of her psychological problems, at least not tonight; he was tired and all he wanted was to go home, make dinner and go to sleep.

"I know it's your first session, but you have nothing to worry about. Everything that happens here is between you, and me. " he said, smiling. She kept staring, straightened her back and smiled. She finally spoke:

"I'm sorry… I've just never seen a therapist before." she said smiling slightly, revealing very nice teeth. She seemed a lot more comfortable after he had spoken.

"Then, what made you come here this evening?" he asked nicely. "Wine?" he proposed, pouring a glass of red. Usually, he never proposed wine to his patients except Will, but he wanted her to feel as welcome as he could; another reason was that he was quite thirsty himself.

"No thank you, I don't drink." she answered politely, shaking her head. "I… I thought about seeing someone for a while now, but I never _really_ thought about it. Not _really_."

She kept her silence and he knew she wasn't going to break it any time soon. They both sat while neither of them spoke again for a couple of seconds that seemed to last a lot longer than they should have, while Carrie stared lazily at nothing. Hannibal watched her get lost in her thoughts until he inhaled deeply, exhaled and spoke at the same time, reaching for the glass of wine.

"I saw you admiring my books shelves. Do you like to read?" he said casually, tearing her slowly from her day-dreaming.

He took a sip of his glass, tasting the smoothness of the Australian Cabernet Sauvignon wine he had kept preciously. This evening seemed like the perfect time to drink it, creating a beautiful contrast between the stormy rough weather still knocking on the windows and the calming flavours of his favourite drink.

Carrie's head turned quickly and dryly towards him, straightening her back suddenly hearing his question, not unlike the attitude of a lost puppy being called.

The halo of peace within him circled the whole room including her, and she relaxed when she saw him as calm as anyone could be. She sunk a couple of centimetres into the blood red soft fabric of the chair and decided she didn't really want to waste the man's time sitting in silence, and if she couldn't talk about _that_, it would be better for both of them to make plain conversation.

"I love reading." she answered plainly. She hesitated before continuing, wondering if was going to speak before her; it was as if he could read her mind and he nodded just an inch, gently, telling her it was OK to continue.

She continued peacefully, looking down at her feet:

"Horror books scare me, but I still like reading them, especially if there's ...". The next word in her mind changed into 3 words in a half-second, "a good plot."

When he didn't comment, she looked up at him and saw his eyes narrowed darkly and the shadow of a grin appeared on his face. His eyes were almost… hungry. It changed quickly when he saw her staring back, her dark eyes wide with innocence.

She looked back down at her feet, keen to keep the conversation flowing as best it could "What... What books" she hesitated between her words, "what books do you like to, er, read?"

She felt the weight of silence in the air. The hail had stopped.

His face had scared her when she had looked at him, but for some reason, she wanted to see that expression again. Her heart was slightly accelerating with fear and she lifted her head up slowly, keeping her vision on her old trainers, until her head was almost straight on her shoulders she decided to also lift her eyes step by step. She looked.

His smile was as kind as anyone. It created one of two creases around his cheekbones and he was bent forward, in the same position as her; it looked much more elegant when he did it.

"Maybe it was just my imagination" she thought to herself, but she couldn't shake the cold feeling that came from his eyes. The halo of peace was still there; she couldn't understand. "_Definitely_. Definitely my imagination", she told herself, "too much horror stories, Carrie. He's gonna think you're cuckoo_ooo_." Her sight started to be filled with small ponds of blood, before she realised it wasn't blood. She looked back down at her feet. Her eyes were wet, blury. She didn't move an inch; she swallowed her tears and closed her eyes, and attempted to regain control of herself, teeth clenched and fists tight.

He didn't interrupt her; simply watched. It had been a while since one of his patients had wanted to _not_ cry. Most of them wanted to be told how miserable they have it, how their mummy should have been more caring, how they have it too hard… Of course, it was easy to handle. Just add a deep remark and a tissue and there you have it.

But this girl… she didn't want to speak.

"Abandonment?" "The death of a loved one?" "Abuse? ", he questioned himself, over and over, but seemed to find no answer. It had been a while since he had found something in his job other than Will, interesting.

_This_ girl, had issues.


	3. Temperature

**Hey! This chapter is longer than the previous ones. Sorry for the wait last time, with exams and all going on... **

"Well, it's 7 o'clock. You're free to go, Carrie," Hannibal announced with a smile after checking his watch.

The hour they had just spent together had gone a lot faster than she had imagined it would. She found herself surprised that she had sort of… enjoyed it. They had talked about simple things she liked such as movies or books but it had been the first time she had had an actual conversation with another adult since she moved, three weeks ago.

"All right," she replied politely, "thank you for seeing me tonight."

She got up and adjusted her tee-shirt with a brush of her hand, and escorted her out of the room, walking behind her. He tapped her shoulder gently with two fingers and she turned back at him so quickly that they were only a foot away from each other. She stepped back rapidly, surprised by the sudden close distance and feeling guilty to have done so. He hadn't done anything but she couldn't shake off the cold feeling in his eyes, although she secretly liked it.

Hannibal didn't seem to care as he handed Carrie his card. "My card," he said, "If you ever need something." He smiled at her as she pocketed it and thanked him, and watched her wave goodbye before disappearing from his view. As soon as she had gone, he found himself thinking that maybe he shouldn't have gave her his number after all, but the feeling didn't last long. He went back to his office as he had some papers to finish before heading home.

Carrie stepped into the almost freezing air and crossed her bare arms, shivering, watching her breath turn to smoke each time she exhaled. She made a mental note to take a coat next time she went out and could have kicked herself for not taking one tonight. She looked around her at the streets until she recognised one of the names: "Howard Street". Carrie remembered walking through there to get here. Teeth chattering, she walked past the houses, the pavement lit only by a few orange lamp posts here and there.

When she had reached the end of the road, the complete darkness confused her and she soon found herself panicking.

She took a right and another right, before taking a left and stopping. She tried to remember where she was and felt her hands and feet go numb, bitten by the freezing night. Overcome with stress and panic, she took another left and another and was even more lost than before. She didn't recognise anything at dark and angry tears started to burn her eyes as she looked for someone to help her. She noticed a few men on another street, smoking, but thought better of it and attempted to go back on her steps. However, it was no use. She had no idea where she was. Her heart was thumping against her chest; she was a young girl walking the streets at night with no one around other than suspicious looking men.

"Phone!" she thought with relief as she reached into her jean pocket. She took it out difficultly with her freezing hands but managed to get it. Browsing through her contacts, her stomach suddenly dropped when she remembered she had no friends or family living here.

She swallowed, her throat dry and slowly reached for her pocket to put her phone back. As she slipped her mobile under the rough material, she felt a pointy piece of paper and took it out.

It was 's card.

A sharp ring cut the silence of the office and looked up from his documents to his phone, sitting on his dark wooden desk. 'Unknown number' it said. It vibrated loudly against the table and he saw that he had spent almost a half an hour at his desk since his last patient. Taking his time, he sat his pen down and answered the call.

"Er... hello? ?" a girl's voice reached his ear and he frowned, recognising her at once. "I… Can you help me? Please? I…" she trailed off.

"Carrie? What's wrong?" he asked, curious about her hesitant tone.

_She hadn't wanted to call him at all. After leaving his office not even an hour ago, what would he have thought of her calling him just because she was scared the night? Turning the card over and over in one cold hand, she had decided to take another go at finding her flat. She took a left and another left, crossed a street, took a right and ended up… _

_Absolutely nowhere. If she hadn't been lost before, she was now. She had swallowed her pride and called him. _

"I'm… lost" she said with a sob she tried to hide, and felt the shame in her voice. She waited for his response as she wiped her wet eyes with the back of her hand; she could feel them slightly swollen.

"It's alright Carrie. Tell me, do you see any street name around you?" he asked as he got up and put his long dark coat on.

"… Coshward Avenue" she said, expecting directions, "and I live on…"

Her therapist's voice cut her off. "Don't worry. Stay where you are and I'll be there as soon as possible" he spoke comfortingly, and Carrie didn't answer as she was under shock of him coming to find her himself.

"I'm going to hang up now, but if you want you can ring me back. I'll be there soon." She heard the line cut and sat down onto the pavement, her knees drawn up, burying her tears and sobs in them. It didn't take much to make her cry this past month, and knowing how weak she was made her cry even more. Her hands, nose and eyes had gone numb with cold, and she shut her eyes tight, waiting.

Stepping outside, felt the cold reach his skin and he exhaled to see a cloud of vapour forming. He knew the roads here, and it didn't take him more than 10mins to get to Coshward Avenue. It was dark and he could hardly see, but as he walked he distinguished a small shadow at a corner. Narrowing his eyes, he approached and saw it was Carrie. Her whole body was trembling, face still buried, and he swiftly took his coat off to wrap it around her figure.

Directions were all she would have needed to get back home, but something in her voice had made a sort of… paternal instinct resurface, if you could call it that. Although he knew almost nothing of her, her scent was something new; he couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly.

She felt the warmth of the coat envelop her and looked up to find . He grabbed her forearm to help her stand and he felt the coldness of her smooth skin. Once she had gotten up, he let her go. She secretly wished for him to put his arm around her, at least for warmth; she was freezing to death. They started walking slowly, Carrie following him side by side.

"Th-th-thank you" she managed to blurt out, ashamed that she had needed his help.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and saw her wiping remaining tears away quickly. "You're welcome. Now, if you care to tell me, where do you live?" he asked coolly.

"N.293 Ro- Rosemarie Terrace" She said, shivering, going back to her normal tone. "Thank you for co-coming here to get me. I-I was just expecting dir-rections, you know."

"I was going home anyway, it was no complication" He simply answered, feeling her gaze on his face while he looked straight ahead.

They walked in silence, Carrie being guided by his steps. Her lips were blue and her eyes sore. was wearing a blue shirt under a black suit vest, and Carrie couldn't help but stare from the corner of her eye. Vest suits were one of her favourite type of clothing on men. When Hannibal stopped walking, she saw that they had arrived in front of her apartment. She turned towards him and thanked him again.

"You're welcome." He answered, "However, you should add a taxi number to your phone, just in case. Oh and may I have my coat back please? It is quite cold." He demanded politely, and you blushed furiously, noticing you had been clutching at it over your shoulders the whole time.

"Y-yes. Of course." You handed him the coat, and watched him put it on somehow seductively. He adjusted it on his shoulders. "Appointment next week at the same time, yes?" You nodded. "Goodnight, then." He walked away.

She watched the mysterious figure disappear around a corner, and felt the cold upon her again. hadn't as much as shivered under the weather.

**The 'love' will come in, I think, after next chapter. I'm building it up little by little. **

**Next chapter might take a bit long, I don't have it planned out.**

**Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed and please review, it really helps! Bye!**


	4. Worlds are words

**Hi I'm back! **

**This chapter is the longest yet so I hope that makes up for the time! Please enjoy.**

Carrie checked her watch and found out to her surprise it only took her ten minutes to arrive at the familiar building. Her appointment was at five and it was only half four, but luckily she had brought a book to read in her handbag. The sun was playing with the weather today, warming her skin for a moment and then hiding behind thick clouds. Deciding there was no point going back into the tricky temperature if it was to stay at home for only ten minutes, she walked into the building and reached 's waiting room, where it was warm.

Today, she had decided on making an effort with her appearance for once. Her dark hair was combed neatly in a fishtail on one shoulder, and she was wearing an outfit she was most proud of. A white chiffon blouse covered with a dark blue jacket, tight black trousers and high heeled classy shoes with laces. She also opted for basic makeup –eyeliner, foundation, and mascara- mostly to cover her tired look. With the end result, she felt very good about herself, which hadn't happened in a long time.

As she eyed the room she saw 's office door wide open, and heard shuffled footsteps on the carpet. She looked inside the office as she stood in the doorway, watching a man standing in the middle of the room.

He didn't look like he belonged there.

No sign of was given so Carrie decided to approach the stranger herself; he looked pale and tired. "Er… Excuse me" she started, walking towards him cautiously, "Are… are you alright?" she asked. No answer. The man hadn't even moved an inch; it was as if he didn't know she was there. She walked towards him at a quicker pace to have a look at him, her brow furrowed with concern.

Once in front of him, she found that he was a very attractive man, with dark curly hair, stubble, and lost eyes. She knew that look; she had felt it herself, and more than once. She saw her reflection in his eyes, and knew he was reviewing horrible memories, or thoughts. At that moment she felt such compassion for this man, this stranger that she wanted to scream at him that it was going to be alright, that it was going to be okay. Staring back at herself, Carrie didn't realise how close her face was to his, waiting for a light to come back to his eyes.

He blinked and came back to life for his gaze to land on the girl's, and he stepped back so quickly he almost fell as he stared at her. His eyes darted around the room like he didn't know the place, and Carrie only felt relief that he had come back to his senses.

He seemed confused. "…Um, who're you?" he asked with cracks in his voice.

"Carrie: one of 's patients. Sorry for the short distance, I was trying to see if you were… awake, you know." She added, trying to make it sound more casual than it was.

"Right, right." He muttered under his breath, before a long pause. "… Was I standing here a long time?" he asked, trying to hide a hint of concern in his voice.

"Not for long, I think. I heard footsteps so you were probably walking." she replied plainly. "Unless it was someone else …Mind if I ask who _you_ are?" raising an eyebrow curiously.

He seemed a little bit more comfortable now that he was aware of his surroundings. "Will Graham" he answered and put his hand out with what seemed to be a forced smile "another patient." She shook it; his palms were sweaty and her hand felt tiny in his. However, he was gentle when his fingers closed over hers and she couldn't help but smile at the obvious kindness she sensed in him.

She felt she had millions of questions but could not remember a single one.

A strong hand squeezed her shoulder slightly.

"I'll be with you in a moment, Carrie." a seductive voice spoke. She knew who it was before even turning around; recognisable by the accent she liked so much. Before leaving the office, she gave Will Graham a small encouraging smile and headed back to the waiting room.

She sat down in the waiting room and took out her favourite book. Honestly, she was glad to have arrived early in order to continue it –she wasn't even halfway through. While took care of Will Graham, she dived into the completely different world of the story. In less than no time she was cracking codes and running away from police cars, when she was suddenly pulled out from the pages by two voices.

They had finished with their appointment and she saw that Will was speaking to in hushed tones so that she couldn't hear. Respectfully, she tried to get into her story once more but it was no use; he had piqued her curiosity and she couldn't help but try and listen. However, she couldn't hear anything and simply waited, reading the pages with no understanding, for her name to be called.

"Carrie. Would you like to come in now?" the doctor asked politely. She nodded, placed a bookmark, put her book back in her handbag and got up. Will was still there and she noticed he didn't keep much eye contact.

"Carrie, thanks for the…um…" he struggled with the next words.

"It was nothing". She smiled at him and, for once, he kept eye contact for a second. Feeling like she was being analysed, she was the one to look away this time. Will understood he had made her uncomfortable, said goodbye to both Carrie and and left rather quickly.

Alone with , Carrie started to feel more at ease, even if the chapter she was just reading was most exciting. She followed into his beautiful office of which she didn't get tired of admiring. Sometimes she wondered what kind of books the shelves held; what kind of worlds. When she sat down across , he realised she had tried to cover up her face with makeup and although she looked pretty he could still see she looked a lot paler than usual and saw the faint dark circles under her brown eyes.

"So, you've met Will. What do you think of him?" he began, as if it were a normal conversation.

Startled by his chosen topic, she gave him a questioning look before answering anyway. "He's… nice. But he doesn't seem to have a very good notion of time."

"Yes. Will has problems keeping track of reality." replied casually, watching her reaction.

Carrie felt confused and chose her next words carefully. "So you mean, there's more than just forgetting..." she shot a glance up at her psychiatrist "he looks very tired too."

"Will has nightmares… delusions disguising his reality. That's why he seems so unstable." He explained.

Carrie nodded in understanding, before frowning in realisation. "Wait. You're not allowed to tell me this! Isn't that breaking the patient and doctor rule?" she asked all at once, feeling suddenly very guilty to have let his words reach her ears.

"It's all right Carrie. Will has given me permission to tell you."

She was about to retort before she realised what he had said. Now calming down, she started to wonder. "Why are you telling me about Will?" she asked, shaking her head in confusion.

"Well, I thought it would be good for you to try and describe him to me", he shrugged as if it were nothing, before adding "An exercise, you could say."

Carrie stayed silent for a moment before speaking calmly as she always does. "You want me to… analyse him?" He simply smiled, but she understood. "I said I was interested in studying psychology, not that I was someone who had a knack for it. Or even someone with the ability." She added with a small dry laugh.

"Everybody starts somewhere. This is your hour. You're not being judged by anyone but yourself." He reassured her. She had always stricken him as someone who had no confidence. Boring, but still, she had potential and he could see it. The way she interacted with Will while he listened was enough proof.

"Fine." was the only word she said.

"Close your eyes" he spoke. She pressed her eyelids shut. Hannibal loved the way she listened to every word he said, every order. He wondered if he could even get her to jump out of a window because of her blind trust in him. "Now picture him and relive what you've seen, felt, smelt, heard, anything." He watched her as she sat peacefully; she had made an effort today. Well dressed, her hair neat. Very sophisticated.

She looked back at Will's eyes. "He's lost. In his own thoughts. His own memories." she paused briefly, remembering the forced smile, "He's… sad? No. No, he's afraid. He's afraid of his own shadow. When I shook his hand, his palms were… sweaty" Images of different angles she hadn't seen rushed to her when he handed her his hand to shake. The moisture was closer and closer, until she could see each droplet. But it turned red.

She found herself sitting on red tiles, blood pouring down her hands, hugging, kissing something that no longer moved. Her own cries of pain echoed through reality and fiction until her eyes could only focus on the colour red, and she felt blood pouring out of her own eyes. "Carrie… Carrie" a faint familiar voice called.

Her eyes flew open and she gasped for air like she had been held underwater for far too long. Lying back to the carpet, her wet eyes adjusted. They weren't bleeding, she was simply crying again. Over her was the face of , calling her, as calm as ever. "Carrie. Can you hear me, Carrie?" he asked over and over. She nodded and she sat up against the chair she had slid out of.

Her head was spinning from everything and took out a tiny torch to explore her eyes quickly. Once he finished, he sighed and knelt in front of her. "You're all right now, Carrie." Attempting to get up, held her arm. Once she had managed to stand on both feet she tried to take a step before falling right into , knocking them both over.

"Sorry, doctor…" Carrie apologized as she helped him get up.

He accepted the help and noticed some wrinkles on her blazer. Before thinking, he was straightening her jacket and patting her hair. He was about to caress her cheeks when he looked back up and realised what he had done. He saw her with wide eyes and red cheeks. Not believing what he just did, he was glad when he turned on the spot and saw the clock handles pointed on half 5.

"So, Carrie... our appointment's over. You can go home." She noticed his voice drier than usual, and she still felt her cheeks burning. She left without a word, just a polite nod.

Hannibal knew something was wrong. It had been at least two months since he had started seeing Carrie as a patient. He had had a lot of patients, some just as interesting as Carrie, but never quite the same. Never had he done a gesture like he just did. Something was wrong. He had wanted to feel her hair, but it wasn't just for him. It was also for her. He had wanted her to feel his hand through her own hair and his hand on her shoulder. He wanted her to know _him_.

This was new, and Hannibal was not going to stand for it.

**Hope you enjoyed! **

**PS: The pat on Carrie's shoulder/hair is more meaningful than it seems, **

**but I'll leave you to your own deductions. **

**I tried very hard for this chapter, please review it helps a lot!**


	5. Relic

**Hi. First: this isn't really a chapter... more like an _appetizer. _**

**Second: Thank you for all your kind reviews/follows/favorites. Enjoy!**

It's been 6 days. Tomorrow, Hannibal will have to face Carrie again. He wasn't nervous, he was just thinking.

_She reminded him of a fish he once had. It was always there, waiting patiently, swimming in peace… relying on him for everything, unaware of all the danger in its surroundings._

Sitting at his table, he ate silently what he had prepared. Tonight he had no guests over and found time to completely surrender to his own thoughts. As he ate the salesman who had kept badgering him about a new phone he simply _must _have, time ticked on until he finished everything on his plate and it was 10 o'clock. Finally deciding to go to bed, he washed up, all the while thinking what he'll cook tomorrow for lunch.

As he lay in his magnificent bed, he started to fall asleep, sinking deep. Carrie's brown eyes were gazing at him in the dim light. She placed a soft hand behind his head and pulled him in, closer and closer, until he could feel her warm breath on his own lips. He breathed her in, a scent of pineapples, before running his hand through her long head of hair and kissing her violently, feeling her gasp at the shock of his mouth colliding with hers. He slowed down, and she slipped her tongue in his mouth, soft and gentle. He pushed her back against the wall suddenly and pressed his whole body against her, so excited he could barely control himself. Deepening the kiss with his own tongue, she slung her arms around his neck, moaning in pleasure with her delicate voice as he bit her bottom lip.

The dream evaporated as quickly as it had begun and he woke up, shocked at his inappropriate dream.

He glanced at the alarm clock on his side table. It said 02:56. A bulge had formed between his legs but he tried to ignore it best he could. It was a simple dream. Nothing more, nothing less; he left it at that. Remembering he had many patients to take care of tomorrow –well, today; technically-, he sunk back into the mattress, not knowing whether he wanted the dream to come back or not.

Carrie sat on top of her bed, a book in hand (this time: Sherlock Holmes), as she continued reading while hours had flown by. Each time Sherlock found a clue and solved another mystery she found herself amazed at his logic. It had been around midnight when she had started the first chapter of these 307 pages; now, her plate of frozen chips lay cold and forgotten beside her, barely touched. She finished the 256 page, and glanced to her bedroom window to find out it was pitch black, except for the glimmer of stars in the night sky. Another look, this time to her clock that hung opposite her bed: 02:34.

Yawning, she stretched and saw the food she had prepared hours earlier. Grabbing the fork, she tasted it but wasn't hungry so decided to return it to the kitchen. One she had threw away the food she placed the dish in the already full sink and looked outside through the small window. It was beautiful; the full moon… the stars… the dark… the mystery. Never in her life would she truly know what lies beyond those stars, beyond the universe itself. For all we know, we could live in a blue-eyed giant's eye.

She remembered when life had not been so lonely, so hard to catch up to.

_They hadn't seen the sun go down as they continued throwing the ball at each other, which they had been doing for quite a while now. There was no game, just a ball that they kept throwing and throwing, trying to hit each other; a lot of laughing was involved. Once Carrie's best friend's little sister had been called in for dinner by her mother, only two people remained on the deserted street, an invisible bond tying them together with a knot that grew larger and stronger every day. They were both thirteen, and this was stupid; silly, childish. Carrie's favorite game. _

_Once the sun started going down, tiredness grew on them little by little until they decided to rest. In silence they sat across from each other, looking up, able to not say a single word but still understand everything the silence meant. Stars started to appear in the soon-black sky, and they stared as far as they could upwards, both knowing the other was also wondering what was above. _

_The memory of that night was Carrie's most precious relic. _

She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking that maybe if she wished very hard she could go back in time to that one night, she'd find herself on her street sitting across her favorite person in the world. Needless to say, it didn't work; she sighed and decided it was time for bed until she felt a tear roll off her chin.

Patting her cheek nervously, she realised she had been crying. She started to shake as she reached for tissues and tried to dry up the rivers that flowed beneath her eyes. It didn't work and she started to panic at the reflection in her window; she was a mess. She remembered the blood, _so much blood. It was so much blood for such a small cut. Too much blood; a lake, a river, an ocean dripping red from her fingers. _

Her sobbing echoed through the empty room and she reached for the only thing she thought could help. As she found the phone she blinked her salty tears away to try and see the numbers on the card. Once she had dialled the number with effort she sat on the wooden floor, breathing heavily, and waiting for an answer.

"Hello?" a voice said on the other side. Carrie let another tear fall from relief. He seemed perfectly awake.

"Carrie?" he asked, still as calm. "What had she done? Phoned her therapist in the middle of the night expecting help? Idiot. Stupid _idiot_", she thought to herself as she hung up quickly, her face still dripping with tears. There, she sat for a very long time, thinking.

**Hope you liked it! **

**(Thought you guys deserved a little taste of Carrie and Hannibal making out, even if it's a dream)**

**I won't be posting the next chapter until I get at least 2 reviews! (I know I'm selfish)**

**Pleaaaaaaaaaase review. Seeya!**


	6. Broken glass

**I'm back (one month later)!**

**I'm really sorry I take so long. No excuses. **

**Also, who spotted the Game of Thrones reference in last chapter?**

**THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL REVIEWS, FOLLOWS AND FAVORITES. Enjoy!**

Her steps were quiet as she walked down to the tiny library that was squashed between two slightly larger buildings, a clothes shop and pet store. It was just starting to get dark, even though it wasn't much after 7pm. The clouds were still nowhere to be seen and a few stars had already showed themselves in the lilac sky. The chill air made Carrie pull down as much as she could the sleeves of her black coat and crossed her arms, keeping as much heat in as possible.

As she stepped into the old library, she breathed in the hot air, and shivered pleasantly because of the temperature change. The shop was very little, probably the smallest she'd ever been to, but it was her favourite; every book she had bought here she had found brilliant, especially the horror section. The lights were dim and gave the place an atmosphere of mystery as she visited each aisle one by one. Most people walked by this place without looking twice, probably because of the broken window at the entrance, or maybe the fact that the walls were almost yellow with time. The air was almost suffocating too, but she loved it.

A young man –almost boy- around her age with curly blond hair hung around the horror section and she pretended to be particularly interested in the sci-fi section, which was placed beside him, as she awaited his departure. He quietly observed her behind the novel which currently resided between his fingers, and she felt his eyes on her. Her throat started to go dry; her stomach was beginning to feel weird. She still didn't take her eyes off the manga pages, and heard the footsteps approaching in her direction. Carrie did not like the way his fancy leather shoes echoed on the wooden floor, breaking the silence.

"Hi" said the man, who was now leaning against the wall with one shoulder, hands in pockets. His voice seemed too manly for his age to Carrie.

Knowing he had done nothing to upset anyone, she lowered the book and turned to face him. She took a small almost unnoticeable step back because his closeness was already making her more uncomfortable. "Hi" she said in a very neutral tone, with an awkward smile, forcing herself to look him in the eye, although blinking nervously all the way. His blue eyes felt cold and demanding to her.

Deciding she had to go to the horror section while he was there anyway, she walked over to where he previously was and ran her index over the binders until she found something interesting, placed it on the floor, and repeated.

"So, what's such a pretty face doing in _here_?" he asked, looking around the tiny shop with a disgusted look and tone.

Her movements stopped and she stayed still. Ok, _now_ he had done something to upset her – and he's said only a sentence so far. A sudden urge to slam his face into a brick wall came over her.

"…Buying books." She answered sharply, although extremely nervous.

Her movements went back to browsing the horror section. She could tell he was annoyed at her sarcastic reply when he shifted awkwardly and mentally congratulated herself for saying those two simple words that had sounded a lot heavier on her tongue.

The curly-haired came closer to her, and when she looked back towards him he was a few inches away from her face.

Shocked, Carrie stepped back instinctively but he grasped her wrist forcefully, and pulled her forward towards him. "How about a cup of coffee sometime?" he whispered, snake-like.

"Let. Go. Of me!" she said, every word accentuated with a tug away from the stranger. Panic started to build in her chest and heart was racing with fear, so loud she was almost sure he could hear it. Trembling, she watched his face approach hers closer and closer, before suddenly, a tall figure stepped right between them, forcing them apart at once.

The tall man faced the blond, with his back to Carrie. She could only distinguish his hair, which was black and curly, longer than the blond. Her fear did not evaporate even as she heard them converse.

"What the hell man?" The blond asked with a trying-not-to-seem-worried smile, attempting to go around the dark-haired man to reach Carrie, who was as far back as she could from them, trying to figure out what was happening and getting her heartbeat to slow down.

The tall stranger stepped to the side to block the blond from going near her again.

"Just… leave her alone" he said. The croaky voice sounded familiar to Carrie's ears and she tried to remember when she'd heard it.

The blond stared back at him angrily. "…Fine." He said bitterly, "This bookstore fucking sucks anyway." On those words he walked away and both Carrie and the other stranger waited until he walked out of the front door, hearing the bin outside being kicked, before turning to face each other.

His hair was indeed dark and curly, and looked soft to touch. The length was just long enough to cover half his forehead, popping up in random places on his head. Carrie remembered him. His stubble was still there, same as she remembered it. Today his tired eyes were framed by glasses, which only made Carrie like him more for some reason. In the dim light she could distinguish a dark blazer covering a tee-shirt, and he was wearing a pair of jeans. Carrie wondered if he always dressed so casually, even if this was only the second time they met.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly, taking a few quiet steps towards her.

"I'm fine," she said rubbing her wrist that was finally free. "Thank you." She added, looking him in the eye with a grateful tone.

"…No problem" he answered awkwardly. "You should be careful at his time though. These people…" he looked outside, in the direction the blond had left, and shook his head as if he didn't know what to think.

"…'Will', right?" she asked for verification.

"Yeah.", he began "And you're Carrie. We met at-"

" 's office; I remember." She finished with a smile. "So, what are you doing out here at this time? Don't you live really far away?"

She realised what she had said when he observed her with an intrigued look. "I mean, um. mentioned to me that you lived outside the city." she looked down at her feet, "I'm not… a stalker or anything."

"…says the-person-that-goes-to-the-broken-bookstore-when- there's-a-new-one-just-open-down-the-road." Will carried on.

Carrie felt insulted until she looked up to see him smile amusingly at her, realising he was joking. She soon grinned back, feeling more at ease.

"Anyway," he continued, "I'm out because I needed dog food; just ran out." He raised the plastic bag he held in one hand before lowering it again after a moment, "What about you?"

Carrie pointed at the large mess of books that still lay on the floor, with an obvious smile. "I'm buying books."

_"All_ of them?" he asked with one eyebrow raised. There must have been at least fifteen novels altogether, most of them horror ones.

"'Course not! I'm filtering" she explained.

Carrie knelt down on the floor to examine them again, followed a few seconds later by Will who copied her. With him beside her, she felt better somehow; she watched him from the corner of her eye look over some of the books, before he picked up a certain book named "Fascination" -its cover being two hands holding an apple- and put it back up on the shelf where it had been before Carrie took it.

"Oi!" she said with an amused frown, "I've heard that book's really good."

"Believe me, it is _not_", he explained, "probably one of the worst books I've ever read. Basically: sexy vampires that glimmer in the sun and have sex at night."

"Alright, I'll believe you," she sighed "doesn't sound like my type of book. Any you know are good here?" she asked, looking at the pile. Carrie then handed him a book named "Misery". "Have you read this one?" she spoke excitingly "it's really good."

"I have, actually" he exclaimed surprisingly, "I loved it, especially the metaphors."

"The ones about the tide coming over again and again?" she asked. He nodded, quite impressed.

They spent a long hour discussing books and Will noticed the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about them, like a family she was very fond of. He, himself, did not read as much as her but for some reason enjoyed listening to her go on and on about her favourite characters. Her smile was so bright he was sure it wasn't the lights illuminating the store, but her face.

Occasionally she would wear a frown, caused by a page in the book being so crumpled she couldn't read it, and would ask him to decipher the writing. Carrie would then sit beside him and they would read a few pages together, sometimes dramatically re-enacting dialogues and their chuckling would not so much as break the silence than fill it.

When they looked back at each other, they simply smiled, both of them looking simply… happy.

Carrie liked Will. Not in a romantic way or anything, at least she didn't think so. It had been a long time she that she had spent an hour with someone and not feel unwanted or uncomfortable; maybe it didn't seem like that big of a deal, but to her, it was.

When she looked back outside through the small window that was in the distance, she saw the sky had turned an almost-navy blue. And as she wondered if something good was finally happening to her, she finally felt tiredness grow on her.

**Hope you enjoyed. Thank you so much for all those reviews on chapter 5! **

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**Good luck with school everyone! **

**Byeee**


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